To my right I see a man undressing, ready for a swim.
Brave.
He sees me, grins and indicates he’s going in.
A travellers accent.
Cold sky, hard wind, rough breaking surf.
I wouldn’t swim here, now.
He steps onto the wet sand. I hesitantly ask.
– You’re a strong swimmer? – No. But I won’t go out far. – Do you know where the rip is? – No. But I saw surfers going in here yesterday. – Surfers often enter the rip, to ride it out past the break. – Oh.
The first wavelet rushes up his legs.
The next, riding the first, gushes past his shorts.
He stumbles. The pull of the water undercuts the sand beneath his feet.
Concerned, I call to him. He turns and I see agreement.
Another broken wave hits from behind.
Firmly gripped hands is my strong sense, though we are well apart.
Retreat up the steep beach.
My shoes are filled with coarse wet sand and jeans are wet to the knees. Later walking the beach, I ponder whether I’d wrongly impinged upon his free will. Or maybe saved a life.
Title adapted from a short story, “The Life You Save May Be Your Own” by Flannery O’Connor, 1955.
“There are two numbers you need to know about climate change. The first is 51 billion. The other is zero.”
So begins Bill Gates’ outstanding new book, “How to Avoid a Climate Disaster“.
Fifty-one billion tons of greenhouse gases generated by human activity are added to the atmosphere every year. This number is increasing.
Zero is what we need to achieve to avoid the worst effects of climate change.
There are some very impressive aspects to this book.
Firstly this is the best overview of the climate crisis faced by the planet I’ve read.
Bill articulates the causes and impacts, the science and the challenges very clearly. He’s applied his obvious intelligence and resources to explore the matter broadly, and as a communicator, shares what he’s learned very effectively.
This book is an holistic education for anyone wanting to get an up to date understanding of the climate crisis.
Usefully the book segments human activity and the various potential developments which are worth pursuing. It’s a non ideological survey of the current and emerging possible pathways to reach zero. I like the way Bill presents, with a pragmatic and open mind.
The five segments explored are: Â
The next most valuable aspect for me was a critical thinking framework of ‘five questions to ask in every climate conversation’ (Chapter 3).
My favourite was, “What’s your plan for cement?” The production of steel and cement creates about 10% of all emissions, and the question is a reminder that any comprehensive plan needs to account for more than electricity and cars
Finally the most important aspect of the book for me, is that the author is Bill Gates himself, by any metric a World Class Leader.
With his voice and resources now publicly directed toward the climate crisis, our planet gains a powerful advocate.
Pablo Picasso and John Lennon are world class leaders I chose for immersion study last year.
Towering, iconic individuals of the 20th century.
Yet with a curious similarity – their creative breakthroughs actually the product of intense partnership. Picasso and Georges Braque pioneered Cubism between 1907-14, in the process revolutionising modern art.
The two painters shared so many ideas, theories, models and inspiration, that it’s difficult for a regular viewer like me to discern which artist painted which picture.
“The things that Picasso and I said to one another during those years will never be said again, and even if they were, no one would understand them anymore. It was like being roped together on a mountain.”
Liverpool teenagers,John Lennon and Paul McCartney formed The Beatles and went on to produce the soundtrack to the Boomers awakening.
Paul said the two had a habit of âansweringâ each otherâs songs. âHeâd write âStrawberry Fields, and Iâd go away and write âPenny Laneâ ⌠to compete with each other. But it was very friendly competition.â
Interestingly, on outgrowing The Beatles, Lennon formed a new, intensely activist and artistic partnership with Yoko Ono.
I’m fortunate to know the value of fellowship, encouragement and especially productive rivalry in powerful collaborations.
And have lived the natural cycle, from first meetings, through inspired activity to parting, even death.Â
The leader myth is often one of lone genius, the daring radical, a solo sailor or intrepid explorer.
Walking our dog last week, I came upon an elderly man changing a flat tyre.
Crouched in the gutter, midday sun scorching down, I was moved to ask: “Are you alright? Do you need a hand?”
He turned toward me with a wary, bothered glance. And relaxed.
“Yes. I’m recovering from an operation.”
A surprisingly immediate and frank admission.
So I hunkered down in his place, jacked up the car and changed the tyre.
As I worked he told me he’d had surgery 4 weeks earlier. That he’d visited his doctor for another matter and been diagnosed with an abdominal aortic aneurysm (AAA).
He lifted his shirt and showed me the raw scar up his torso.
Surprised again. I told him that four years earlier my father died of a ruptured AAA, alone and undiagnosed.
Tyre changed, he asked if I lived locally. “Yes. Down the street. The house with all the piano music.”
Later in the evening my wife told me a man had knocked at the front door.
He said I’d helped him earlier and he wanted to leave me a gift.
Our dreams are rich with insight, if we decode the messages.
This week, while facilitating a residential leadership retreat, one came my way.
“A long suspension bridge spanned the ‘Swan’ river. Sagging, it dipped beneath the surface of the water for a great distance. Yet people in cars and trucks were still crossing. I sensed a man beside me and began to question him … how do those cars manage to cross? Is there visibility under the water? Is there a strong current? How do you seal the car? How do they stay on the road surface? etc. And to my growing concern, he gave me no answer …”
In exploring dreams, the literal rarely makes sense, so I seek connections and associations.
First I was surprised how clearly I knew the name of the river. The Swan River. I know it’s the name of the river running through Perth, but this has no strong relevance to me.
Then I remembered the previous evening watching parts of Jonathan Swans’ interview of President Trump. Swan, an Australian journalist and son of Dr Norman Swan, impressed me with his very straight forward, almost innocent approach.
The second obvious association was with Covid-19. The pandemic and it’s impact was a dominant background to all conversations over the preceding two days.
The perilous crossing of the bridge in my dream, seemed a fair metaphor for the unknowns which lie ahead.
Finally my thoughts traced back to my roots where I grew up on a property located behind Fawcetts Creek, in northern NSW.
Each February, during the rainy season, the creek would flood. At times we would need to cross it.
The process was always the same.
First a scouting of the natural ford, to assess the depth of water (above waist deep was too dangerous) and whether the creek bed was stable and unobstructed.
Even now I can recall the mesmerising swirls and power of the red-brown torrent.
If driving across appeared feasible then the Land Rover was prepared.
WD40 sprayed onto the electricals, a hessian sack tied to the grill to reduce the water surge onto the radiator fan and engine.
The sturdy Rover was revved up and driven into the water at a confident speed.
Momentum is crucial. As is the ‘DO NOT STOP’ principle.
Once committed, there’s no room for hesitation or gear changes.
Fortunately we made each crossing safely.
When however the flood water was clearly too dangerous, we’d park the Rover.
Then hike three wet kilometres, skirting the creek along a track on higher ground, to a welcome home.
